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The day of the final attack by the joint operation on Karasuma's mansion turned out to be one of the hottest days of that summer.
"Maybe it's the heat that finally did him in," Haibara Ai, once upon a time Sherry, comments in her usual deadpan tone, referring to Karasuma. "The perils of global warming."
Even Akai has temporarily abandoned his knitted cap under the summer heat, a rare sight. If Furuya's being honest, he still isn't quite used to Akai's short hair at this point. Back in the days when Akai was still Rye he had long hair, and so was the time Bourbon and Vermouth ran into Akai in New York after Rye's escape from the organization. It felt like one of those unchanging constants - Rye might have turned into Akai and ran away from the organization, and his hair remained the same as always.
Until it didn't.
The next time Bourbon saw him it's in that video Gin broadcasted over the organization, with Kir supposedly killing Akai. But Bourbon was too busy analyzing the other details back then, trying to figure out how this could have been made to look real when he was certain it's a fake, so the short hair seemed less of a priority. And then there was the ridiculous pink hair of Okiya Subaru - although Furuya quickly learned not to criticize that in the Kudo household because Kudo Yukiko took that as an insult to her personal taste. Akai shot him a very amused look when she first chastised Furuya for it, her manner dramatic. Furuya flipped Akai off discreetly out of Kudo Yukiko's sight.
The little detective, still in his 7-year-old body then, politely pretended he didn't see anything.
When the Okiya disguise dropped and Akai Shuichi returns, his hair is cut short, a sharp contrast from the Rye days. No pink wigs, no bloody fake death as distractions, everything's back to the same like a factory reset on a device except it isn't, because the hair is gone. And weirdly it feels harder to get used to than the Okiya disguise or the sight of him being shot by a bullet.
But it's like, whatever. Furuya's so busy that this hardly matters.
In the days leading up to the final operation, Furuya has already been out of the organization. There was an earlier incident where either his own or Kir's cover risks being exposed, and in the end they decided to keep Kir in the organization. Furuya has resources here in Japan he can utilize, officers he can command and collaborators he can use, and Hondou Hidemi does not have the same leverage here - something Furuya is glad that she doesn't. Plus, Kir has more of Vermouth's protection, and history showed that Gin is probably more willing to spare Kir's life than Bourbon's.
So Kir stayed, coordinating with them from the inside, supplying them with information. A task easier said than done because various people are trying to get all sorts of different information from her - Furuya himself wants details on the companies and politicians involved with or financed by the organization so it'll make the inevitably messy cleanup work a little smoother, Haibara Ai wants to salvage as much information from the lab as possible so she can develop a permanent antidote, and Edogawa Conan wants the floor plans and maps to all the places the Zero department + FBI joint task force is considering attacking, just to name a few things.
"Rena-chan's sleeping with Sharon, isn't she?" Kudo Yukiko asks. Then she amends. "Chris, I mean."
Furuya and Akai exchange a look.
"Well, I never asked," Furuya says, carefully.
"How close is she with Vermouth, exactly," he asks Akai later when they're alone. "Do you think we can use her against Vermouth in some way?"
"I suspect that as long as it doesn't result in Vermouth's arrest or death, she'd be thrilled to go head-to-head against her," Akai replies. "However, Kudo Yusaku-san has made it clear - to me, privately - that anything that might put her in danger is strictly off-limits."
Furuya raises an eyebrow.
The Zero department + FBI joint task force spends a lot of time ironing out the details of closing in on the organization, in the NPA offices. There are lots of information that needs to be verified and corroborated before it can be used, and officers spend all day coming in and out reporting on the latest updates.
Heated debates from broader approaches to exact details, moving white boards packed with handwriting and magnets attaching the latest printouts, the office is as busy as ever. There's an efficiency amidst the chaos, or at least things seem to be progressing closer towards an endgame that after so many years finally seems in sight. Like the light at the end of the tunnel. There's a new air of anticipation that all the hard work and sacrifices might finally bear results, that for the first time the destruction of the organization actually seems like a tangible and real thing. Close to grasp. That finally it's not just waiting, biding time, not just endless, continuous information collecting that will never advance to the next stage.
Everything feels more at stake now in this stage, feels more dangerous and tense but also exhilarating in a way. It's not unwelcome but it's certainly unprecedented, like nothing none of them has ever experienced before. Because they'd never gotten so close like this, never quite got to this stage in the past. Never gotten near close to a place where the end might be in sight, that they might truly wrap this up in a few months.
It's a good thing that the goal he's been working so hard for, working so long towards, is now finally a visible possibility on the horizon, a thing in sight. Even as he throws himself into work 100%, occasionally Furuya will admit to himself that this all still feels a bit .... surreal.
He runs into Akai on the roof of the office building. Akai nods briefly as a greeting, a cigarette in hand.
"Running away from the crowds?" Furuya asks, half-jokingly.
"Are you talking about yourself or me?" Akai replies dryly.
Furuya scoffs, walks up to Akai's side, leans against the railing, and steals the cigarette from Akai's hand in one easy grasp.
Something in Akai's expression shifts. A flicker of - emotion, almost close to an open wound.
The opening closes again.
A fresh insight hits Furuya like a train. Or a memory, really, a brief scene from the past. Whiskey trio on a mission. Scotch, running his fingers through Rye's long hair, Scotch, stealing the cigarette from Rye easily in the exact same manner -
Oh, he thinks.
They haven't exactly talked about that night, but they've reached an understanding, and Furuya, at this point, has a pretty good idea of what really happened on that fateful rooftop, and he knows Akai suspects he knows.
He slowly takes a drag of the cigarette and stares out into the distance, the busy city streets beneath.
"It's ..... different," Akai says, breaking the silence, like an offering. "Working with so many people."
Their eyes meet, and Furuya thinks he knows exactly what he means. It's obviously a good thing that they have so many resources at their disposal, but it's certainly different from what both of them were used to when dealing with the organization. Furuya's spent so long as Bourbon, relatively independent even when in the organization, oftentimes forming temporary allegiances to gain information and sometimes working briefly with various people out of necessity, but that was different from what's going on right now with the joint task force. He's used to working alone and only conditionally trusting others, sharing only necessary information when needed, and sometimes not even then. Undercover agents has to be used to working alone and relying on oneself. There was the occasional teamup with Vermouth when their goals aligned, but even then they both kept so many secrets to themselves and danced with lies.
While Rye left the organization much earlier, even within the FBI Akai has the reputation of being kind of a lone wolf, preferring to work on his own. The kind of person who would unexpectedly involve an elementary student in his scheme rather than confide in his colleagues.
The truth is that in the days of Whiskey Trio going on missions together might be the closest thing either of them have to regularly collaborating, on a more or less equal level, with fellow professionals. Of course, they were all lying in those days, pretending to be different people than who they really were, but the collaboration was real. Despite the distrust back at that time, they did work well enough together. Even if during those days they were working for the organization, for the benefits of the organization, often with blood on their hands.
It was a small circle, just the three of them.
Now they have a bunch of subordinates and colleagues to work with and superiors they need to report to, crowded office and streams of information coming and endless details to take care of.
It's - not a bad change, exactly, but it's different. Takes getting used to.
Also - Scotch is not here anymore.
Above their heads, the sun is shining bright and searing hot.
Sometimes it feels weird, standing under the sun - maybe more metaphorically than literally, but regardless -
Furuya exhales. "Does take some getting use to," he agrees.
I wish Hiro's here, he thinks.
For them, the rooftop of the office building becomes some sort of secret retreat of some sort, a temporary escape from dealing with working with so many people, because no one else goes there to torture themselves with the summer heat. A brief moment of silence before Furuya heads downstairs and leads the discussions again. He can also lock himself in the office, but inevitably someone or other come knocking, and somehow nobody seems to come up here.
Except Akai.
Furuya's vaguely aware that Kazami thinks they're up here arguing over the latest trivial detail about some operation or another, choosing to fight privately so it would not affect the morale or set a bad example. Although while they occasionally do discuss work, even more times they're just silently smoking - it's all Akai's fault that he's picked up this terrible habit again, really - without a word. Maybe some reminiscing now and then, or throwing insults at Gin. Well, Furuya does anyway. Akai still calls Gin his beloved archenemy, so there's that. Then again, admittedly that might disgust Gin more than the insults if he could hear them.
There is a certain camaraderie between them, an understanding. Of having really stayed in the organization, with the perspective of viewing it from the inside. It's not the kind of things easily talked about or understood by people without that same experience.
It hits him, that they've known each other for over 5 years at this point.
Scotch's absence is strongly felt up here, more than it is down in the office with air conditioning. But the absence itself, the hole creates, is a form of presence of some kind, too. Looming over them.
On another rooftop in another time, blood explodes everywhere, bullet goes through a cellphone.
In some way, he's savoring that feeling, that hole, that absence which in a way is some kind of presence. Scotch, with his blue hoodie and coolly polite smile. Scotch with his bass case. His rifle. Steady hands, strong arms, cool blue eyes. Scotch, fingers lacing through Rye's long hair -
Akai lights another cigarette.
It's easier to let Kazami think they're just up here arguing over trivial details of operations. It's easier than explaining. There are things that Hiro had done, in those days as Scotch, that only two of them are aware of. Sure, once the mission's completed then Gin knew the broad outlines, knew what happened.
But there are some things that you just had to be there.
Furuya's other colleagues know Morofushi died on the job, of course. Knew of Scotch's death. But they're not quite aware of the details of Morofushi's contribution, of the work he'd done as Scotch, the information he managed to get, the missions he went on, the people who died by his hands. There are things Furuya's not ready to talk about yet, possibly never will, but at the same time the thought of all the things, all the hard work Scotch had done, unremembered, unknown to most, buried in files that might not be opened again -
There were earlier memories too, before the organization days. Just the two of them, Hiro and Zero. Fishing by the river, studying music in either one of their bedrooms. Tennis. School days. Lying on the grass together, looking up at the stars. Chaste kisses. They were so innocent, back then.
Those were the secrets he had to bury too, at least until this is all over.
But here's someone who remembered the darker parts, the organization days, someone who was there as Rye, part of the Whiskey Trio. And it's - one more person who remembers him, and that has to count for something, maybe, Furuya thinks. Maybe it's the way he knows he misses Hiro, always will, but then he looks into Akai's eyes and he realizes -
Scotch is Akai's ghost, too, in a way. Haunts him differently, and yet haunting nevertheless. Akai's skeleton in the closet.
It's late at night one day when everyone else has gone home, and this time they're in the office alone instead of on the roof. It's been a long day and they'd argued about at least 10 different things earlier that afternoon, finally reaching uneasy compromises on some.
"Akai," he says. "You want to come back to my place?"
"And here I thought you'd never ask," Akai drawls. "Furuya-kun."
Furuya's manner is almost ferocious when they roll onto the bed, his hands sliding into Akai's shirt, running down his back. For a moment thinks of Rye, long dark hair. His fingers curl up and meet the emptiness, then claw onto Akai's hips. The slow, weird, nostalgic tension that's been slowly building up between them on the roof is close to shattering, or already has. He thinks about Rye, and, as always, Scotch.
Always.
Akai's looking at him with something in his eyes, close to regret, mixed with the way one looks at one's ghosts. Furuya remembers, memories flashing forward, the way Scotch would use to play with Rye's hair.
Distantly, a siren is sounding through the streets.
He bites down on Akai's shoulder.
Furuya and Morofushi used to share everything. They had their own music instruments they're more used to but they sometimes swapped, too, just for the fun of it. Sometimes it's clothes when they'd stayed at each other's place in teenage years. Stationary. Tools. Toys. Model cars. Fishing rods. Snacks. Hand in hand, the two of them against the world.
Bourbon and Scotch didn't share things. And Rye - well, Whiskey Trio went on missions together, but in some senses Rye, at that time, had been more of Scotch's than he had been Bourbon's. Bourbon and Scotch didn't really share things like that, not at that time. It could be dangerous, getting too intimate together - it could accidentally reveal things, the true nature of their relationship, which they're already doing their best to hide in front of Rye.
So, Rye was Scotch's. And Bourbon didn't touch him.
Back then.
Furuya thinks now, a bit bizarrely, like he's travelling down a path Scotch had travelled down before. Exploring a map that Scotch had explored before, following the trails -
"Scotch used to do that too," Akai comments, at one point, slightly breathless, interrupting Furuya's train of thoughts. Furuya had imagined that the namedrop might finally shatter something in him, that the topic they have both been avoiding to bring up explicitly would tear through something, but when it actually happens it's somehow anticlimactic.
"I know," Furuya replies. Automatic. Reflexive. Because he does know.
".................."
".................."
"He told you that?"
"In a manner," Furuya says, vaguely. Not with words, he means.
Akai rolls his eyes.
Somehow, the tension breaks.
Shattering.
Everything's the same as before, they continue plotting against the organization, colleagues come in and out of offices bringing latest updates, and Kir sends back whatever information she can. It's just now they're sort of friends with benefits, even though it's still debatable whether they're actually friends.
It's only happening because the timing, the convenience, and they just both happen to be here and needing the same things at this exact time. There's an expiration date, and when their goal is achieved and organization destroyed and their work wrapped up fully -
They'll move on to different, newer, individual goals after years of fighting the same enemy.
Nothing unites people like a shared enemy.
"That said, just to be clear, I'm not sharing Gin." Akai says. "He's mine."
"If you want to bargain for him, you'll have to offer something in exchange."
"You can have 2/3 of the resources Gin controlled - 3 quarters if you wish. But Gin himself is mine."
"80% then you've got a deal. Also I've been recording this conversation so don't think for a second you can go back on your words."
"You've been recording us in the bedroom?"
"Only when we're also discussing work."
"Do you expect me to believe that, Bourbon?"
"Believe whatever you want, Rye."
Hondou Hidemi, later, "I don't care about your private negotiations, I didn't spend those times in the organization alone just so you guys can divide Gin up only amongst yourselves."
"Oh, Kir," Akai says. "Never take something a man says in bed seriously."
The organization falls on one of the hottest days of that summer, and the cleanup work of wrapping everything up lasts well into autumn. Akai's flown back to the States a couple of times during the process, and then things gradually wind down to an end so there comes a final time, at least for a while. It's a new stage, former allies no longer united by a shared enemy now the enemy is gone.
He's enjoyed working with him - it's always pleasant to work with competent people, even if they usually come with their own quirks and annoying habits - and he's enjoyed sleeping with him. It's fun while it lasted. It's an incredibly intense shared experience, stretching over the years from days in the Whiskey Trio to the joint task force. It's lasted so fucking long, almost the entirety of his adulthood outside of school years.
And then he's seeing him off at the airport one last time. Somewhere in between, summer has ended, slipping out of sight. He doesn't know when he'll see him again.
Not that they owe each other anything, at this point.
He'll move on soon, to a new stage of life. Throw himself into work, face whatever challenges that come next. There's always stuff to be done. It's probably weird to compare this to like, the end of summer camp when you don't know when, or if, you'll ever see the friends at camp again as everyone goes back to their own life. After all, it's been years. Summer camps don't last more than half of a decade.
Then again, he's only been fucking Akai for one summer.
Akai has put his knitted cap back on again, the weather tolerable again. Furuya's finally gotten used to his short hair, perhaps a little too late.
"Well, Akai, I suppose I'll see you around - or not," he says, easily. Casually. With a wicked grin - because why not end on a charming note?
Akai laughs, amused, like it's some kind of an inside joke. Maybe it is. He replies - almost warmly - "See you, Furuya-kun."
They part with goodbye nods to each other, then Akai turns around. Furuya watches as he walks away, finally disappearing behind the security check. He slips his hand into his pocket, touching the box of cigarette he stole from Akai earlier.
"Let's go, Kazami," he says.